Tell them Uncle Bill and Cousin Mabel got the care they needed — and that trans people deserve the same respect and access.

Do your part.
Fight for trans people.
Defend healthcare for everyone.

Talk to your friends and family. Help them see how they’ve also benefited from gender-affirming care, even if they didn’t call it that.

Then speak up. Call your elected officials.

When a doctor listens to you and offers care based on your individual needs, that’s not dangerous — it’s compassionate, evidence-based, and exactly what good healthcare should be.

So when you see politicians trying to ban gender-affirming care for trans youth, don’t let them twist the truth.

It’s hormone replacement therapy for people whose bodies don’t make enough of the hormones they need — whether they’re cis, trans, or intersex.

None of that is dangerous. Quite the opposite.

It can look like hair extensions or hair plugs. Laser hair removal or Rogaine.

It’s testosterone for men with low T. Breast implants. Liposuction.

It’s also puberty blockers for those whose bodies are about to develop traits that don’t match who they are.

Every trans student deserves more than tolerance. They deserve affirmation, protection, and genuine community — not as an act of charity, but as the foundation of true equality.

Her story is not isolated; it’s part of a pattern that shows what happens when young people are forced to navigate hostility, invisibility, or silence where they should find support.

Like so many others, I was processing that news and completely forgot that this would get emailed out this morning. But Lia’s story underscores exactly why affirmation and safety on campus aren’t abstract ideals — they’re matters of survival.

This is a story of living between worlds: the country we were born into (or came to), the country we were promised, and the place we chose — one that offers hope, even if it carries the ache of leaving something behind.

Thank you to Solcyré Burga for telling these stories with care. And thank you to the families who shared so openly. I hope this piece helps others feel a little less alone, whether you’re planning a move, dreaming of one, or holding steady right where you are.

The decision to leave is never simple, either, and the path is far from easy. But for some of us, it’s the only way to breathe again.

I’m grateful we were able to make a move — something I know isn’t possible for everyone, no matter how urgently they may want to. The barriers are real — financial, logistical, emotional. The choice is not always available.

I just published a new piece about advocacy, expectations, burnout, and the long road to sustainability. It’s personal. It’s honest. And it’s a reminder that none of us can do this alone.

Read the full piece here: open.substack.com/pub/debijack...

🧡 Subscribe if you can.

Thank you!

I *still* am hearing that. “The courts will stop them” and “just wait for the mid-terms” are new denialist phrases.

It’s where I’ll be holding it down for trans and non-binary youth and their families — through essays, personal stories, and straight talk. I'll keep posting here, but since people are jumping off social media platforms, it will be easy for you to read and share my thoughts farther and wider.

Refusing to be silent is one of the most powerful forms of protection we can offer.